


The Life I Want

by Areiton



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Frottage, Hunting, M/M, so much sappiness, talking about feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 20:45:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9675794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: It’s ordinary, the hunt and everything in the aftermath. It’s what they’ve done a thousand times—but it’s not all he wants.





	

**Author's Note:**

> And here we have my fluffy (omg so fluffy) little story for the [DeanCas Sweetheart 2017](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/deancas_sweetheart) challenge. There's some fantastic stories there, so definitely check it out!
> 
> Many thanks to [Oceanbluecas ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanbluecas/pseuds/oceanbluecas)& [GeekPrincess ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekPrincess/pseuds/GeekPrincess)for the fantastic beta. <3
> 
> Happy Unattached Drifter's Christmas, y'all. Don't do anything Dean wouldn't.

Dean tosses his shovel down and sits on the edge of the grave. “God, I’m too old for this, Cas.”  
  
The angel flicks a look at him as he finishes digging up the corpse. “I’m much older than you,” he points out, reaching a hand up. Dean grunts as he tugs the other man out of the hole and Cas collapses next to him.  
  
“Then _we're_ too old for it,” Dean says and Cas smiles, hiding it in his chest as he busies himself brushing away dirt.  
  
It’s not gonna do a damn bit of good. They’re both a mess and will be until they’ve showered.  
  
The hunt was an easy one. Nothing Cas couldn’t handle on his own, but Dean had been bored between cases and he jumped at the chance to see Cas.  
  
Sam was off in Florida with Alicia and Max killing a nest of ghouls, so Dean packed up Baby and drove twelve hours for a simple salt and burn. He’d worried, for about five minutes, that Cas would be offended by Dean shoving his way into the angel’s case—but Cas had seemed more pleased to see Dean than anything, and as they worked the case, chasing down the information and narrowing down who the vengeful spirit was, it was comfortable.  
  
It was the same kind of comfortable that he only felt with Sam, but this had a subtle tension to it that his relationship with Sam didn’t. Dean didn’t bother to dissect it. He knew that the tension belonged to Cas, that it was a low thrum of awareness that he always feels _only_ with Castiel.  
  
“We should retire,” Dean says, nudging Cas with his shoulder, as they watch the body burn.  
  
Cas smiles, small and secretive, and shakes his head a little as he follows Dean back to Baby.

* * *

 

They go to a diner, still dirty, and Cas brushes at his coat when they get a few raised eyebrows. Dean smiles and tugs him by the elbow to a small booth. It's like every other diner he's ever been in, and he frowns a little. He should have thought of that.

“Why don't we ever go anywhere nice?” Dean asks. “There was a little Italian place. We could—”

“Dean,” Cas interrupts, a confused frown on his face. “I like this. They have excellent coffee and cheeseburgers. And three types of pie.”

Dean stares at him for a moment, and then gives a small laugh. “Ok, Cas.”

They order coffee and a cheeseburger for Dean, and Castiel amuses himself stealing his french fries.

“Where you headed next, Cas?”

“There's a selkie in Washington I thought I might look into,” he says, shifting in his seat.

The bench squeaks and Dean frowns. “That's the fourth case you've taken since we got back, man. You could take a break.”

Cas looks away. “And do what, Dean? If we ‘retire’, what would I do? Where would I go?”

“What do you want to do?” Dean asks.

Cas goes still, staring at him. So much flickers across his face, too fast for Dean to process, and then he blinks and shakes his head. “What I can't have,” he says simply.

* * *

 

They get a hotel, because it's late enough that Dean doesn't want to drive and because Castiel rarely tells him no. It's utterly ordinary except that the two queens is one king. Dean gives a little hiccup of hesitation when he sees that, throws a vaguely worried look at Cas who huffs and pushes him into the room.

“I don't sleep, remember?”

Of course he does. And it's not as if they've never done this, shared space. There was purgatory, when Cas would press close to warm him, and he could almost feel the angel’s wings. There were nights in the bunker, too many now to count, with Cas stretched across his bed while he sleeps and Castiel watched Netflix.

There were the nights during the apocalypse, when Cas stood slightly too close and he wanted to tell him to step away as much as he wanted to pull him even closer and bury himself in the strength and promise there.

The thing is,all of this feels familiar—Cas working with him, eating together, quietly bickering over the music in the car. Even the way Cas pushes past him and tugs off his tie with an air of relief. All of it feels like something they've done before. But more than that, it feels like something he could do again, something he could do every day.

They watch a movie. Dean’s lost in thought and tells Castiel to pick something before he ducks into the shower, trying to ignore the fact that his best friend is sitting in the other room, skin pink from the water’s heat, barechested and barefoot, in a pair of Dean’s sleep pants that sit too low on his hips—hips that are, ridiculously, fascinating.

Dean doesn’t know what movie is playing across the screen. He only knows that Cas is only an inch away from him, warm and inviting.

“If you could have it,” Dean says suddenly, “what would it be?”

Cas lets out a long slow breath, but he doesn’t pretend he doesn’t understand the question. “A house, two stories. With a room for Claire and a library for Sam. A garage, and a cat.” His lips up in a smile. “A garden, and a big kitchen with a coffee machine I can actually use.”

Dean laughs a little at that. Castiel’s head falls back, and a smile turns up his lips, dreamy and sweet.

“What else?” Dean asks. His chest feels tight, achy.

Cas rolls his head, looks at him, and his gaze is soft warm. “Hunting, of course. But only occasionally. Only when we—I—want to. The rest of the time, teaching. Writing what we—I—know, to share with hunters. Farmer’s markets on Saturdays and sleeping in on Sunday, and—I just want to _be_.”

Dean licks his lips. He could let it go. Could drink his beer and turn back to the TV, to the movie they aren’t even pretending to watch anymore, could let all of this go. But—

“You said _we._ ”

Castiel’s eyes are very wide and his breath catches in his throat. “Dean, I—”

He’s not sure who moves first. He’ll never be sure, after, who moves first. All he knows is that they’ve been moving toward this for so long, he can’t remember when they weren’t, and when they crash together, it’s not what he expected. It’s soft. A feather light brush of Cas’s lips against his, chapped and bitter from the beer. His heart catches as Cas leans in, a tiny noise slipping free.

For a moment, everything shivers to a stop, and it feels like he’s balanced on a precipice.

Then Cas’s teeth bite down, into his lip and the levee breaks. He growls, and drags Cas closer, his mouth opening. Cas kisses like he fights, all fierce and clever, overwhelming Dean as he uses his weight to push Dean down onto his back as he settles over him.

“Fuck, Castiel,” Dean pants and Cas laughs into the kiss. He catches Dean’s hands and holds them tight as he covers Dean’s body, his hips doing a dirty little grind that makes Dean whine in his throat and bite down on his lip.

“This,” Cas murmurs. “Every day, I want this, in _our_ house.”

He thrusts again and Dean makes a noise that isn’t a whimper, and Cas smiles against him, all smug satisfaction, licks the noise from his lips and lifts away.

“No,” Dean gasps, hands scrambling against Cas’s hold, desperate for that friction. Cas hums against his throat and bites down. Smiles at the strangled noise that earns him, and then he’s got his hands on the prize. He slips Dean’s cock out of the sleep pants, then does the same with his own, and he sinks back down. They both groan at that, all desperate relief as they fit together, rubbing in the most delicious way.

“Cas,” Dean whines. His fingers are straining. “Cas, _please._ ”

It breaks something in the angel, and he shifts, releasing Dean’s hands to fist their cocks and Dean bucks up into him, gasping at the sensation. His hands are on those fucking hipbones and his cock is rubbing against Cas’s, the head catching, and it’s driving him crazy. He arches against him and Cas bites down on his neck.

“ _This_ , Dean. I want this.”

Dean is shaking. He wants to pull Cas closer, can’t resist fucking up into Castiel’s perfect hand, and he wants to bolt, wants to run away. His world is shaking apart, and Cas’s grip, the weight of him pressing Dean into the bed, his lips on his throat—it’s all that’s holding him together.

“Give it to me,” Cas says, all grit and gravel in his ear, “Come for me, Dean.”

His hand twists, just right, and his thumb rubs over the slit of Dean’s cock, smearing precome over them both, and Dean shudders, comes, hot and hard between them. Cas slides down his body and licks it up, and Dean groans again, shuddering at the sight of the angel bent over him, hair messy and eyes shining, licking come off his chest.

When Cas kisses him, Dean can taste himself and Castiel, and it’s right.

“Want this,” Cas pants, grinding his cock into Dean’s hip and Dean nods, dumbly, too blissed out and stunned to do anything but nod and say, “Yeah, Cas. Yeah.”

Castiel comes suddenly, his eyes locked on Dean, and it’s like everything is stripped away. All that’s left is love and want, and all of it for Dean.

“Oh,” Dean breathes. “Oh, sweetheart.”

He pulls Cas up, and kisses him. It’s deep and slow and sweet, a promise wrapped up in each brush of their lips as Cas shakes and shudders and whimpers.

“This,” Cas babbles, frantic with want as he presses tiny kisses into Dean's skin. “Want this. Want _you_.”

Dean nods and tucks him close. Hums a little soothing noise as Cas shivers against him. They’re a mess and he’s pretty sure beer spilled somewhere, and he doesn’t care. Castiel is in his arms, and that’s all he can really handle right now.

He nods again and says, his voice a shaky rasp, “Yeah, sweetheart. Me, too.”  

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! As always, I can be found on [Twitter ](http://twitter.com/NazareaAndrews)& [Tumblr](http://Areiton.tumblr.com)


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